


Antivan Pearls

by juliafied



Series: DA Drunk Writing Circle Prompt Fills [2]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Wedding Fluff, dadwc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:09:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28641261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juliafied/pseuds/juliafied
Summary: “Oh, stop it, you old sap. You’re gonna make me cry.”Fenris didn’t look sorry at all, and murmured earnestly, “I am truly the luckiest man alive. The luckiest to have ever been alive, I think.”“I said stop it!”“I can see now why the tradition is to have this moment in front of all the guests. Hawke,” and now his voice got rough with emotion, threatening to push her right back into the tearing up zone, “I am in awe.”Tooth-rotting FenHawke wedding fluff.
Relationships: Fenris/Female Hawke
Series: DA Drunk Writing Circle Prompt Fills [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2099877
Kudos: 15





	Antivan Pearls

**Author's Note:**

> For [DADWC](https://dadrunkwriting.tumblr.com/). Prompt from [luzial](https://luzial.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr: Hawke/Fenris + Your muse adjusting their jewelry/neck tie/ etc. [or clothing, whatever works in the setting].

Hawke stared at herself in the mirror, fiddling with her mother’s necklace. Pearls, which she had never liked, but she could hear Leandra’s voice in her head admonishing her, _they’re_ Antivan _pearls, and your father got them for me_. She sighed, barely holding back her melancholy. Perhaps this was a way for them to be here, on this day when they were always _supposed_ to be here, at least in spirit.

She surveyed the rest of her appearance. She supposed she looked well enough, for a Fereldan doglord, anyway. No doubt some of the nobles in attendance today would be thinking the same thing. She had chosen a red dress, of course, heavily beaded and embroidered, as was fitting for the scion of House Amell and the Champion of Kirkwall.

No matter that she would have been happy to do this barefoot, in a sundress. 

A polite cough at the door startled her.

“Fenris?” she called, with one last tug on her necklace before turning around to break out of her self-obsessive trance. She had expected him to walk into the dressing room, but he stayed just outside of it. Hawke could see the shiny metalic embroidery of the dark back of his high-collared tunic, but not much else.

“Isabela has advised me that we have five minutes,” Fenris announced, slightly muffled by the door. 

Hawke frowned. “Why aren’t you coming in here?” she demanded, walking towards the door, the train of her dress sweeping behind her. 

A sheepish Fenris poked his head around the doorframe. 

“Bethany said that I wasn’t supposed to see you. Before, I mean.”

Hawke snorted. “To the Void with what Bethany said. Come here, you beautiful man.”

He really was, she remarked to herself as she threw her arms around him and gave him a hearty kiss. The embroidery on his tunic, a repeating pattern of silvery-grey sunburst, contrasted beautifully with the navy velvet. The taut, defined muscles of his legs looked excellent in the light grey leggings, too - she looked forward to admiring those a little more later. 

They emerged from the kiss, Hawke mindful of the fifteen minute warning that she knew Isabela would have no qualms enforcing. Fenris’ hair was a little mussed, her own doing, and he absentmindedly ran his fingers through his hair to fix it. Hawke couldn’t describe the look on his face as he stared at her, but the pure, unadulterated joy, affection, and pride that passed over his features made her a little misty-eyed.

“Oh, stop it, you old sap. You’re gonna make me cry.”

Fenris didn’t look sorry at all, and murmured earnestly, “I am truly the luckiest man alive. The luckiest to have _ever_ been alive, I think.”

“I said stop it!” 

“I can see now why the tradition is to have this moment in front of all the guests. Hawke,” and now his voice got rough with emotion, threatening to push her right back into the tearing up zone, “I am in _awe_.” 

She squeezed her eyes shut and put her hands on her hips. 

“Second thoughts?”

“Hmm, maybe just one,” he said, reaching over to adjust her necklace, laughing at her scowl. “There. Now, I have none.”

A voice called out from outside the room. Isabela’s.

“Loves, if you two have finished your pre-wedding tumble, everybody’s waiting for you! Hurry up!”

Hawke grinned. “Ready?”

Fenris smiled back, a proud, unabashed smile that filled her with enough love and warmth to fill up the whole Chantry. “I am yours,” he said, and took her hand.


End file.
